On Film, What They Left Behind
Documentary Tells of an Exodus From a Salvadoran Town and the Ties That Abide

By Tara Bahrampour
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, March 8, 2007

Parisians, New Yorkers and Londoners are used to seeing their home towns portrayed on the big screen. But natives of Intipucá, El Salvador? Not so much.

So it was with a certain amount of pride that Salvadorans converged recently at the Rosslyn Spectrum Theatre for the premiere of "Intipucá: 40 Años de Emigration," a documentary about the strong connections local immigrants have maintained with the Pacific Coast town. The film, made by Washington area Salvadorans, commemorates the 40th anniversary of the start of an exodus that would send 80 percent of the quiet town's 7,000 residents to the United States.

Many ended up in Arlington County, which is 16 percent Latino and home to one of the largest communities of Intipucans in the United States.

Although many Salvadorans settled in the District, Intipucans discovered Arlington early on, County Board Vice Chairman J. Walter Tejada (D) said.

"Arlington at the time was thought to be out in the boonies, but people were looking for larger places to live, and Arlington had two-bedroom apartments for less," Tejada said.

As a sister city to San Miguel, the largest city near Intipucá, Arlington has lured many immigrants from Intipucá and nearby Chirilagua, which has so many natives here that an area on the line between Arlington and Alexandria is informally known as Chirilagua.

"It's a very strong connection," Tejada said. "They have very close ties. These are folks who live in a dual world. Many of them are businesspeople who live in Arlington but go to Intipucá to spend a week or a few months. I know people who have gone for the weekend and then come back. It really is a very personal connection."

Early arrivals gravitated to the Washington region, and thousands followed. Part of the reason was that Washington was not as built up as larger U.S. cities, and it reminded them of home, according to Intipucans interviewed in the film.

"The truth is that Washington didn't have giant buildings. It had little tiny restaurants, and in all these places they would give us work washing dishes," said Diluvina Salinas, 64, who worked for 35 years in the Washington area as a dishwasher, cook and hotel maid and who, like many of her countrymen, retired in Intipucá.

In the film, Intipucan immigrant Salvador Arias, 70, who lived in Mount Pleasant and Arlington for more than 35 years working in restaurants and construction before retiring to Intipucá, recalled his cousin leaving for the United States in 1967, when the exodus for a better life began. "He came back and told us how it was. He told us that one could earn money, and we started fighting to go there."

The film documents the difficult journey many Intipucans had getting to the United States. Among them is Denis Blanco, 20, who recalls "walking, walking and walking" -- and then running, when border patrol agents gave chase near the U.S.-Mexico border. They did not catch him, and Blanco finally made it to the United States.

"I bathed for an hour. I brushed my teeth three times because I felt dirty, after the cow urine I had to drink," he said. He worked as a busboy in Washington for a short time before returning to Intipucá, which he missed.

But many people stayed here, becoming citizens or permanent residents who are able to travel back and forth and keep the link with their homeland alive. Those who could sent back money to build roads, houses and other infrastructure.

The film shows dirt roads and one-room shacks -- Intipucá before the money started rolling in -- juxtaposed with the town today, with its neat cobblestone streets and grand three-story houses with ornate balconies and front doors that look as if they came from Lowe's (in some cases, they might have).

After viewing the film, audience members, among them many Intipucans who have succeeded in business here, praised director Tomas Guevara; executive producer Hugo Salinas, an Arlington activist from Intipucá who lost a close race for mayor of the town last year; and cinematographer Mario Quiroz, a Salvadoran photographer who lives in Rockville and has put together an exhibit of photos of Intipucans on display in the lobby of the Rosslyn Spectrum.

"My father used to have a small farm in Intipucá," said Rene Rodriguez, who introduced himself as a volunteer cultural attache at the Salvadoran Embassy. As a boy, Rodriguez said, he used to travel often to Intipucá from San Miguel.

"I don't know if there's any other town in El Salvador where you see the people so together that they know how to help their homeland without expecting anything," he said.

Quiroz's exhibit of 40 black and white photos, "Km 164: 40 Años Despues" (40 Years Later), shows Intipucan townspeople: sepia-tinted photos of wrinkled faces and children who look, by turns, world-weary and hopeful. "Km 164" refers to the kilometer marker at the entrance to the town, denoting the distance from the capital, San Salvador, the first leg of the emigrants' journey.

Quiroz, who is from San Salvador, said it took time to get people in Intipucá to relax around him so he could photograph them.

"At the beginning, they were kind of like, 'Who are you?' But eventually you start talking and you become friends with them," he said. By the end, he said, some were seeking him out to photograph them.

Quiroz said he was struck by the words of an Intipucan schoolteacher who told him that most of the town's high school graduates would eventually move to the United States.

"Here, when you graduate, it's like, 'Which college are you going to?' " he said. "There, it's like, 'When are you leaving for Los Estados?' -- the States. It's like Camelot or Shangri-La. It's a mythical place."

Guevara, a Washington-based journalist for the Salvadoran newspaper El Diario de Hoy, said he was moved to make the documentary because the Intipucan experience reflects themes common to many Salvadorans -- the nostalgia for home and the displacement and dislocation caused by mass emigration.

"Immigration is not always easy; it's not only money, it's not only a big house in Washington," said Guevara, who is from San Salvador. "Families get left behind, and the second generation can lose the connection with their heredity."

That can leave people in limbo, he said.

"It's our generation's disaster, because they don't have the Salvadoran culture; they don't have the American culture, either. They have a serious problem of identity," Guevara said.

Salinas, whose family moved to the United States in stages over several years, was one of the children left behind when his parents came here to work. Today, the Arlington community activist sells houses in Intipucá. He said the Salvadoran dream is different from the American one in that many Salvadorans come here hoping to earn enough to eventually own houses back home.

Some in the Washington area have started an association, the United for Intipucá Foundation, which has raised about $1 million over the years for projects there, including a $400,000 soccer stadium. Other evidence of Washington, and Arlington, influence in the town include "Welcome to Intipucá" signs in English and a road named after Columbia Pike.

To make the movie, Salinas contacted Guevara, who had made two other documentaries about Salvadoran immigrants, and suggested to him that the 40th anniversary would be a good time to make a film about Intipucá. He introduced Guevara to Quiroz and found backers in the local Hispanic business community for the six-month, $7,000 project.

The viewing and exhibit are part of a series of events of Planet Arlington, a county program designed to explore issues of immigration, globalization and the environment through the lens of the arts and humanities.

Salinas said he was disappointed that local Salvadorans did not pack the theater for the free premiere last month. There were more empty seats than filled ones.

"We did a lot of advertising," he said. "But people work hard, and the distance is so long, and we do not create consciousness about it."

But, he said, he was working on that. In true Intipucan style, the movie's U.S. premiere was scheduled to be followed by its Salvadoran premiere, and Salinas and Quiroz were preparing last week to fly to Intipucá to show it.

Then the film will return here and, like an aspiring immigrant, it will become bilingual (subtitles) and start looking for a job (a spot in a film festival).

And for the busboys, dishwashers and others who couldn't make it to the premieres, Salinas plans to show the film in Salvadoran restaurants in spring.

For information on Planet Arlington, call 703-228-1850 or visithttp://www.planetarlington.com.